I'm A Wonder
by RacconEyesBlueSkies
Summary: McGee is taken hostage by a serial killer. When the psycho sends live video feed of Tim to Abby's computer, the ultimate question arises. Can the team save him before the tape runs out? Rated T for language & violence. McAbby, and COMPLETE:
1. I Came

**Author's Note:  
This was inspired by a song called "I'm A Wonder", by The Cab. The lyrics in that song fit _perfectly_!  
After all the reviews and love from _You Think I'm Dead_, I really hope this is as good!  
&& Please review on what you think- it totally makes my day when you guys review!!**

* * *

"I'm A Wonder"

"We need to catch this S.O.B. _now_!" Gibbs yelled. The serial killer had already taken four victims in the area, and Gibbs was sure that the number was on the rise. So far, they had no leads, and the victims had nothing in common . . . except for their left feet.

The first victim, Ellie Williams, was a Caucasian female who worked as a teacher at a local high school. She had been beaten to death.

The next was Andy Sandio, and Italian who owned a restaurant downtown. He had been shot.

The third, Hilary Baker, was an African-American female who was a lawyer. She had been strangled.

The most recent, whose prints were currently running through the system in Abby's lab, was a Caucasian male whose throat had been cut.

The only proof that they even had anything in common was the small circle that had been branded into their left foot. NCIS had been carved into the flesh inside the circle.

Gibbs sat at his desk, silently brooding over the few ideas that they had formulated, but nothing hit his gut. Suddenly, the soft gasp protruded the silent atmosphere.

"Uh, Boss, I think I've got something here," McGee called. "Abby just emailed me; the John Doe's name is Jason Miller, arrested for shoplifting when he was seventeen. Clean ever since," He lifted a small piece of paper into the air. "Here's his address. He lives about thirty minutes from here."

Gibbs thought a moment before speaking. "McGee, you and Tony go check out his place. I'll check with Abby. Ziva, you do a background check on this guy. I want to know more about him than I do myself,"

They looked mildly surprised, but obliged. Ziva started making calls, her arm hanging limply in the sling.

"The moment you get that thing off, I need you in the field," he said gruffly.

"Of course," she said. "It's off in a day or so anyway,"

Gibbs just hoped that they wouldn't be lost without the Mossad's help.

* * *

Tony and Tim pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex. After acquiring an extra key, they started looking through Miller's place. It was neat and tidy, with one bed and a small loveseat. Tony scoffed.

"Pretty boring bachelor pad!" he commented.

"And pretty clean, too," Tim muttered. They dispersed throughout the apartment and pulled out their equipment, a loud bang was heard. Tim flew to the window.

"Oh, crap!" he exclaimed.

"What happened?" Tony called from the kitchen.

"Some idiot backed into the car. Gibbs is gonna be pissed. . . I'll go take care of it,"

"Good luck, Probie. Knowing Gibbs, you'll need it!"

"I'll be back in ten minutes," he called as he left. He looked at his watch- _11:57 P.M._ He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

"Hey, is anyone there?" he called. He could see the dent from ten feet away, but he didn't see the driver of the other car. "Hello?"

Just as he reached the vehicle, something hard collided with the back of his skull. He plummeted to the ground as his keys flew out of his hands, and the last thing he remembered was concrete rising to meet his face.

* * *

Gibbs checked his watch as the elevator traveled to Abby's lab. It was nearing midnight, and he needed seriously another cup of coffee. His ears were met with the usual screaming music.

"Can you turn that noise down?" he yelled over the chorus. Abby smiled.

"Aww, Gibbs, this is the best song on the entire album!" But when se saw his face, she grudgingly obliged. "Fine, but you owe me a Caf-Pow for my brilliant discovery, Boss-Man!"

"And what would this discovery be, Abs?"

"Why, how all the victims are connected to each other!" She pulled him over to her computer. He four victims photos popped up on the screen, with an unfamiliar name underneath each. Gibbs pointed at one of them. "What's that name?"

She smiled. "This is where it gets juicy; each victim is an author, Gibbs! These are their pen names. We're looking for a Pseudonym Killer,"

Gibbs silently pondered this as Abby's computer blinged.

"Well, that's hinky!" she muttered.

"What is it, Abs?"

"It's an email from an untraceable source . . . it's a list of the victims, probably a hit list. And there's a name attached to the bottom! Ok, so up next is-" She interrupted herself with a gasp. Gibbs questioned her with one swift look.

"Who's the last one, Abs?"

"Thom E. Gemcity,"

Gibbs reacted in less than a millisecond. He whipped out his cell phone, and dialed McGee's number. When it came to voicemail, he dialed Tony's number.

"DiNozzo,"

"TONY!"

"Woah, Boss, what's going o-"

"Is McGee there with you?"

". . . what?"

"IS HE WITH YOU!"

"No, no, somebody dented the car so he went out to handle it. He should be back in a sec if you wan to talk to-"

"Go get him _now_," Gibbs yelled. "Stay on the line, and _hurry_,"

"Ok, ok!" Tony yelled back. _What the hell did McGeek do to piss off Gibbs? He couldn't be this mad over the car . . ._ But the sight of the parking lot shut up his ramblings.

"Aw, damn," he muttered.

"The car had indeed been dented on the side, and the door was crushed it. But what really scared Tony was the fact that the keys were on the ground, next to a small splatter of blood. And McGee was nowhere to be found.

"Tony, where is McGee?"

"I-I don't know, Boss. He said he'd be right back, but the keys are here, and there's blood-"

"DAMN IT!" Gibbs yelled.

Abby's eyes widened. Tim was ok, right? There was no way that this Pseudonym Killer was serious, right? As Gibbs barked out some orders, she noted the anger bright in his eyes. He closed his phone, and looked to her.

"We need to catch this guy, Abby, and _fast_,"

"What happened, Gibbs?" she whispered, afraid of the answer.

"He- he's got McGee."


	2. You Went

Tim's eyes fluttered behind his lids. He could feel a light on his face, and he opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. He noted the metal walls, most likely a basement. There was a metal desk ten feet in front of him, with a laptop and a video-chat camera. He tried to move forward, to investigate this strange place, but suddenly felt the restraints at his wrists and feet. Pain flickered into his memory as he faintly recalled being tied to the wall. The rope in his mouth was large enough so that his angry groan was muffled, but somehow, the man heard him.

"Welcome to the land of the living, Mr. Gemcity!" a pleasant tenor voice boomed. "Or would you prefer to go by your birth name, Timothy McGee?"

The man was about 6"3, with black hair and bright, malicious grey eyes. A scar was visible on his right forearm, and he wore a green T-shirt and jeans. Tim looked down, realizing that he was wearing different clothes. He now wore a deep blue T-Shirt and NCIS sweatpants. The man noticed Tim's discovery, and laughed.

"Yes, I felt that you might want to be a little bit more comfortable for this little screening of ours," he said, lifting the small video camera from the desk. "Usually, I just torture, kill, and dispose. I'll admit, I've gotten quite bored without a challenge. That's where you come in, McGee. I've been tracking your every more for the last week, and you're very intelligent, aren't you? I've also read your novels, and they've provided plenty of insight toward you and your coworkers. So I was wondering . . . do you think that your NCIS team would be able to find you, without your help?"

He focused the camera on Tim, who cringed.

"But just in case I've overestimated your team's compassion, I thought that a little motivation might be necessary."

He pressed **RECORD. **The nightmare began.

* * *

Tony and Ziva hastily processed the scene, trying not to imagine what had happened in the parking lot. They returned to Abby's lab with blood samples and the car keys, hoping for fingerprints. The lab was filled with a soft string chorus, and Abby was nearly as quiet as she took the bags from them & signed the piece of paper.

"You okay, Abby?" Tony asked cautiously.

"Not really," she whispered. "I'll be better when we have McGee back,"

An hour later, Gibbs walked into the lab with a somber expression, a Caf-Pow, and a slip of paper. He slipped her the drink, analyzing her silence. She was more broken up than she appeared, he could tell.

"Got anything, Abbs?" he asked.

"Blood matched. Fingerprints are Tony & McGee's," she answered softly, avoiding McGee's first name.

Gibbs sighed. "I've got a lead, Abbs, but I'm not so sure if you would be able to handle this,"

She grabbed the paper out of his hands, walking to her computer, attaching the connection to the large screen.

"What is it, Gibbs?"

"Website, we got an untraceable email tipping us off. Apparently, it's been set up for us,"

She pulled up the site, not even blinking twice when the screen bore the title **WELCOME NCIS!** She clicked the enter button, and a gasp flew from between her lips as the video-chat popped up. Gibbs pulled out his phone and called Ziva & Tony to the lab.

McGee was tied by his wrists to a blank grey wall, gagged with some rope. A man sat next to him in a feeble metal chair, wearing all black with a ski mask & sunglasses. His gravelly voice was clearly disguised.

"Welcome, NCIS. You seem to have misplaced an agent, and I seem to have been the lucky one to find him. Now, I propose that we play a little game; NCIS verses P.K. You _are_ calling me the Pseudonym Killer, no? I thought it was rather catchy. Anyway, here's how the game will go: I'll ask you questions about McGee's life. I've also thought up a few rules for this game of ours . . .!"

He laughed a raspy, gruff chuckle. Abby's grip grew tighter on Gibbs' hand, and she noticed that Ziva and Tony had already entered.

"Rule number one: You are not allowed to contact anyone for help in the questions. And I _will_ know if you do.

"Rule number two: I will give you a hint about McGee's whereabouts if you get a question right. If you are wrong, however, he will suffer.

"Rule number three: You have only three days, starting the moment I turn the sound off this tape. If you find him, I will surrender. If you don't-"

A malicious glow found his eyes.

"I will kill him, and post the video footage on all broadcasting television channels for three days straight."

Abby looked horrified as the man added a final word.

"Good luck; Gibbs, David, DiNozzo, Scuito. You'll all need it. Your first question will be in one hour."

The sound disappeared. Gibbs was pissed- how the hell was he supposed to know about McGee's life? He barely knew anything about his agents, least of all the skittish, quiet agent currently under threat. And how could he learn anything without consulting McGee's family? This guy was sick, but very smart. He looked to Abby, who was frozen with shock.

"Abbs?" he said softly. She looked to him, tearful. "I need you to do a backround check on McGee, okay? Learn anything you can. Tony, Ziva, you two check out everything about this video and the place he's holding McGee. We need to find him before the deadline runs out.

Abby nodded. As the three agents left her lab, she called out.

"Hey, Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"It's going to take more than Caf-Pow for this one," she said softly.

"Yeah, I know, Abbs. Believe me, I know"


	3. Was It Something I Should Have Said?

Tim sat in the dark. P.K. shoved a straw under the rope, into his mouth; he drank the water greedily, hating that he had to depend on the psycho for nutrition. He looked around; surely it had been more than an hour since they had last contacted NCIS? He had seen Abby's face on the other side of the chat, the rest of the team in the back round. He wondered if she knew that he could see her. He shut his eyes, regretting not telling her how he felt about her before he died.

He shook off the thought. They would find him . . . they _had_ to.

Suddenly, the man ran back into the room, and turned on the camera's sound. Abby looked up, and Tim noticed that she had switched locations to sit in his desk chair. This brought a faint smile to his face, which soon disappeared when the man spoke.

"I've got your first question. Are you ready?"

Abby sighed heavily before responding.

"Yeah, we're ready,"

"Okay, Miss. Scuito, here it is: On what day did McGee get his tattoo?"

Tim's eyes grew wide- how the hell did this guy even _know_ that? But his eyes grew even wider at Abby's answer, and his heart flew to his mouth

"June 17th," she shot off, easily. "I remember, because the next day was our first date,"

"Congrats!" P.K. cried. "Your clue is . . . McGee is _close to his home_. His _real_ home. Your next question will not be as easy,"

He turned off the sound once more, waling over to Tim, smiling.

"I knew that you and Miss. Scuito dated, McGee. That was a question to merely get their hopes up. The next one will be much more difficult. Also, I've got a little question for _you,_"

He whispered into Tim's ear, "You still care for Miss. Scuito, don't you?"

Tim's eyes screamed at the man. He barked a laugh at him.

"That's what I thought," he muttered. "This makes it all the more interesting . . ."

* * *

Gibbs sent Tony to look over Tim's records of his hometown. Ziva was assigned Tim's apartment. Abby went back to Tim's files. They had been proud of her and the way she had handled the situation, but she knew that she had know the question purely out of luck, and old heartache. The questions would get harder and she couldn't afford to get them wrong. She couldn't let that sicko hurt her Timmy. That just wasn't going to happen.

She kept the footage of Tim on the plasma as she continued to work. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, looking for any sign of pain in his every move. As he hung there, trying to be brave, she wondered if he could see her . . .

Suddenly, a hand motion from Tim answered her question.

He lifted his tied hand, and curled his hand into a fist. He stuck out his pinkie, forefinger, and his thumb. Then, he wiggled his hand at the camera. He was speaking in American Sigh Language.

He was telling her that he loved her.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She wiped them away, and held back the rising sob. And even though she didn't believe that he could see her, she signed back.

* * *

Abby gave Gibbs, Ziva, and Tony each a thin folder of back round info on McGee, yet she was pouring over ten times that herself at twice the speed. She put it upon herself to find all the information she would need before P.K. messaged them again. As the hand on the clock announced it was now 3:37. The ping from Tim's computer told Abby that it was time again. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself as the sound returned.

"Ready for your second question?" P.K. asked. Abby simply nodded.

"Okay, so what was the first call he ever made on his first cell phone to?"

They all looked at each other, hoping the other had gotten to the phone records. None of them had. They let Abby make a guess. She prayed she was right.

"His sister, Sarah?" she squeaked. Tim slammed his eyes shut, and Abby's face fell. Oh God, no. The man left the frame as he started talking.

"Sorry, that's not correct. It was to his father. Since you were incapable of responding correctly, I guess you'll just have to watch your agent suffer. The man came back into frame, brandishing a sharp kitchen knife, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"No," Abby whispered, terrified. She saw McGee puff his chest out, trying to be brave for them. For her.

P.K. sliced open Tim's shirt, revealing a more muscular chest than Abby remembered. He rested the blade against Tim's bare skin, letting him squirm for a moment before beginning. He plunged the knife into his skin, carving a line from his abdomen to his chest. It was a shallow cut, but Tim's eyes slammed shut with so much force, that they could imagine how much it hurt.

"Stop!" Abby yelled. P.K. turned to her, angry at being interrupted.

"For that little outburst, Miss Scuito, he'll have to endure a bit more pain!"

He popped the top off the rubbing alcohol, and poured it on Tim's chest.

The antagonized, aching scream of pain would forever be burned into their memories, forever. P.K. turned back to the camera, thrusting the dripping knife into view.

"_Don't_ be wrong next time,"

Abby cried for a few minutes after that before collecting herself. She sat limply in Tim's chair, staring at the plasma, where his cut had stopped bleeding. He was covered in dried blood, and t was a particularly gruesome sight. His eyes were watering, and he was trying viciously not to cry.

Gibbs walked over to Abby, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Abby," he said.

"I should have gotten to his phone records, Gibbs, I should have known!" she cried.

"It is _not _your fault, Abbs, do you hear me? This guy is a twisted, sick bastard, and we _will_ catch him,"

He pulled her into a tight, protective hug. She sighed, holding onto the man that was pretty much her father. She let him comfort her for a few moments before sitting back at the desk.

"I'll get back to his records, Gibbs. This won't happen again."

* * *

The next ping arose from the computer around 5:16 A.M. They all crowded around the computer. Tim hung loosely now, tired and drained. The man sat down in the chair.

"Answer right, and I just may make a deal with you. You can either have another clue, or I'll dress McGee's wounds,"

Abby answered impulsively, and Tim looked up at her, eyes curious.

"You take care of him!" she yelled. The irony screamed at all of them.

"If you answer right, I will. Now, who was the first person that he failed to save?"

Tim hung his head, eyes slamming shut in pain. He knew who P.K. was talking about. Thankfully, so did Tony.

"Erin Kendall," he whispered.

"Yes ma'am!" the man cried. "Now, let's clean Mr. McGee up . . ."

The sound clicked off once again as P.K. continued to talk as he cleaned up Tim. Abby looked at Tim, wondering what he was hearing. His eyes were sad, shadowed with the ghosts of his past.

* * *

The next ping was less than two hours later. Abby let out a relieved sigh when she saw that Tim was now clean and calmer. His wounds were clean and bandaged, and his clothes changed. He was now wearing black sweatpants and a deep green shirt, bringing out his eyes. He looked broken and tired, but Abby thought he was beautiful.

His bright eyes connected with hers, and he wiggled his toes at her. She giggled.

"Glad to see McGee can still make you laugh in such perilous times, Miss Scuito," the man commented. She had almost forgotten he was still there.

"They wouldn't be perilous if you just let him go," she growled.

P.K. laughed.

"How bout an agreement? If you can answer a bonus question correctly, you'll get to talk to McGee,"

Abby nodded, and the killer continued.

"Okay, so here's the real question. What technology does McGee use to write his books?"

"Vintage typewriter," Ziva said over Abby's shoulder. P.K. nodded.

"You clue: McGee's location is revealed in his pain. Your bonus question: What was the name of his childhood cat?"

Abby blinked before she automatically replied, "McGee's allergic to cats. He didn't have one,"

P.K.'s smile was obvious through his mask.

"Yes! I'm rather surprised you got that one right. Oh, well, a deal is a deal. But any hints, and I will blow his brains out," he said, pointing to a rifle on the ground. He un-gagged McGee, who took a deep breath before talking.

"Oh, God, Abby, I'm so sorry!" he croaked. His voice was raspy from maltreatment. "I shouldn't have gone out there without backup,"

"Not your fault, Tim," Gibbs said. Tim looked a little surprised at the use of his first name.

"Is your arm better, Ziva?" he asked.

"You are a hostage, McGee, and you are worried about my sprained arm?"

He smiled. "Anyway, Abbs, I'm sorry that you have to see this, you shouldn't have to watch-"

"Shut up, Tim. I wouldn't leave you right now for anything, you know that right? Are you okay? God I miss you,"

"I'm alright, Abbs. I think I lost a bit of blood, and I'm a little dizzy but I'm okay,"

Tony spoke up then, anger in his eyes at somebody hurting his Probie. "When we get him, McGee-"

"We will kick his ass!" Ziva finished for him.

He smiled at them.

"I know you will. Take care of each other, you two, okay? And Abbs?"

She looked at him, eyes full.

"I miss you, too. More than you can imagine,"

The man reappeared, gagging Tim again.

"Two days left to find McGee, NCIS. Use your time wisely!"

Tim closed his eyes, his head swimming. He was so tired, surely a bit of sleep couldn't hurt . . . He looked to the camera and watched his team- his _family_. The last thing he saw before falling into a troubled, shallow sleep was Abby. She stuck out her hand, and repeated his earlier sign. He smiled, then fell into oblivion.

* * *

**AN: Thank you oodles to all those of you that have reviewed and favorited and story alert-ed! It means so much that you take the time to readmy writing!**


	4. For Your Own Sake,

Tim's eyelids fluttered open, feeling like his eyelids weighed ten pounds each. His arms seared, and his wrists screamed. Ignoring the pain, he shook his head to diminish all his grogginess. P.K. was nowhere in sight, but Abby's face was watching him through the camera. She smiled & waved at him, sparking an idea. He wiggled his fingers, pulling his hands into view of the camera, thanking god that Abby had taught him the ASL alphabet.

B-A-S-E-M-E-N-T.

She nodded, rapidly signing. He shook his head, telling her he didn't catch it. She tried again.

W-H-E-R-E

As he began to reveal his position, a door slam caught both of their attentions. P.K. had returned, and had seen Tim signing. He ran over to him, brandishing his knife. He began yelling, and his voice flew out from the small speakers into the bullpen

"You think I'm stupid or something? That I wouldn't know what ASL looks like? This'll teach you to try and mess with the rules!"

Swinging the knife around, he began slicing shallow cuts into Tim's arms.

"Gibbs!" Abby yelled. "Tim was using ASL & the guy saw! He's cutting him!"

As Gibbs ran to her side, eyes glued to the plasma screen, growing more concerned as P.K. continued yelling.

"Ok, NCIS!" he bellowed. "For that little stunt, we have a penalty question! No clue this time, just a chance of defeat!"

Gibbs found his voice while Abby continued whimpering.

"What's the question?" he asked calmly.

"What is his biggest weakness?" P.K. barked. That surprised Abby.

"Like, physically or mentally?" she asked quietly.

"Emotionally," he said with a menacing smirk.

Gibbs looked at Abby, who was deep in though. Gibbs thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to clarify with the distraught killer.

"Weakness during the job?" he asked quietly. P.K. nodded.

Gibbs sighed, and Abby looked to him to answer. He took a deep breath and a chance, knowing he was right but hating his answer.

"He doubts himself. He doesn't believe in himself as much as he should . . . he second-guesses everything he does,"

P.K. nodded, lowering the knife. A hard glint lit in his eyes.

"Correct, Agent Gibbs. I've gone through his computer files, and luckily his writing instinct carries into his personal life. He keeps a journal," he said with a hard chuckle. He shook his head before addressing them again.

"You have eighteen hours left. Use them well,"

The sound clicked.

Gibbs looked to Abby, and she stared back.

"Check his files on his personal laptop, Abby," Gibbs instructed. "Look for that journal,"

Abby looked guilty as she said, "But it's his private journal, Gibbs, I can't just-"

"It's his journal or his life, Abbs,"

She looked down and nodded, grudgingly setting to work.

* * *

After a half-hour of going through Tim's encrypted files, she finally hacked into his journal. Her eyebrows shot up; he had entries from two _years_ ago. She started shifting through the numerous dates and titles, smiling at the things he wrote. Commonly, he talked about a hard case or his German Shepard, Jethro. Sometimes he spoke of his boy-scout troop, others he mentioned his difficulty with continuing his book. After an hour or so, a certain name caught her eye on a title.

"Fred Rinnert?" she muttered. Fred had been sent to watch over her forensic analysis of a computer, only to turn out to be the bad guy after all. Frowning deeply, she clicked on the document.

_Okay, so when I first got a look at this guy that came in to watch Abby, my first instinct was to punch him. There's just _something_ weasel-y about Fred Rinnert(even though weasel-y isn't exactly a word, you catch my drift). Although I couldn't quite put my finger on it until later, it turns out that the guy is a criminal! My blood was practically boiling every time he watched Abby out of the corner of his eye. He even bought her Caf-Pow; who does he think he is? When we finally figured out he was in the middle of the crime, Gibbs and Cournal Mann were all over him . . . and Abby threw an awesome punch right to his face. That pretty much made up for all the torture of having to watch him hit of her countless times. Who knew Abbs had such a great right hook!_

With a smile plastered on her face, she exited out of the document. Of course Tim would remember that guy . . . and he was right; Fred did turn out pretty weasel-y.

She continued going through, happily reading slower when her name popped up . . . and it did so often. As she reached the last entry, she was growing nervous. Nothing was in the journal that could help him . . . until now.

_I really hate serial killers. I mean, I really, _really_ hate them. As if killing itself wasn't bad enough, this psycho we've got has just got to keep going. I pray to God we catch him before he kills another innocent person. Normally, cases don't hit me so hard . . . but there's something familiar about this guy- I feel like I see a pattern, you know? But I don't have anything concrete enough to come to Gibbs about. It's not like I can just come up and say, "My gut's really been bothering me about this case!" He'd just smack me and thank me for pointing out the obvious. I guess we'll just have to keep looking, but I don't think I can wait for this one. Every time we get new evidence, I get reminded that these people had homes, families, loved ones. All I've got is a family back home, Sarah at Waverly, and NCIS. But I guess, in a roundabout way, NCIS really is my home. . ._

"GIBBS!" Abby yelled. "I think I've got something!"

* * *

**Author's Note:  
****Sorry it took so long to update! Life's been kicking my kiester. I've already finished the last chapter, i just have to type it up! And I promise I'll have it up wthin the week.  
****Also, if anybody has any fic requests, I would LOVE to give one a whirl! As my plot bunnies are slowly dying off, I'd love to get a new challenge:)  
Just PM me with your request, and I'll have at it! Keep in mind that I'm an avid McAbby fan, and I don't do anything extremely explicit.  
Hopefully I'll be able to write a good fic on request!**

**:)**


	5. Let's Take My Side For Once

Gibbs slammed the car door, starting the ignition before Tony and Ziva even situated themselves comfortably inside the car. He soared out of the parking lot as Tony got Abby on the video phone that was attached to the headboard. She appeared, eyes filled with worry and hands typing frantically. He began to ask her a question, but she silenced him by throwing up her hand to the lens.

"I got something,"

Gibbs' ears perked up. "What is it?"

"I finally broke through the code that was encrypted in the sound system of P.K.'s voice recorder. Although, his normal voice is probably more creepy!"

"That help us any, Abbs?" Tony asked. Gibbs smacked him upside the head before adding, "She isn't done yet, DiNozzo,"

"I also broke the sound codes that kept us from hearing what he was saying to Tim when he turned off the sound. He usually was just goading him on, but once he mentioned a tracking device that was attached to the back of his sweatpants. I triangulated the signal, and it's coming from that warehouse,"

"Got it, Abbs. Is there anything el-"

Gibbs was interrupted by a crash. Abby was looking at McGee's computer screen, her eyes widening. Ziva started to ask a question, but Abby silenced her by signing to Gibbs rapidly before signing off.

"What did she say, Gibbs?" Ziva asked as Gibbs sped down the road at illegal speeds. He looked grim as he answered.

"P.K. sent her a warning. He has a final question,"

Tony looked alarmed. "When does she need to answer by?"

"Ten minutes. If we're late, or if she's wrong, McGee dies."

* * *

_Ping!_

Abby looked up, wondering how such an innocent sound could have grown to become so dreaded. P.K. was muttering to Tim incoherently, obviously waiting for Abby to "hear to sound come on". Little did he know that everything he's been revealing under the cloak of mute was now in Abby's hands.

Tim, still tied to the wall, was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in time with his labored breaths. She knew that he needed medical help, and quickly. Boiling hot anger bubbled up inside her from the pit of her stomach and grew to her lips as she hissed in irritation. Who was this man to treat her Tim like that?! Then, the loathed tenor voice interrupted her mind's inner ramblings.

"Alone, Miss Scuito?"

"I wouldn't be alone," she spat back. "If you let Tim go,"

"Well, Abigail, that all depends on your answer to my last question,"

Her anger turned to anxiety. With Gibbs and the team gone, Tim's fate was left solely with her . . . unless they got there on time. Which she couldn't count on.

Taking a deep breath, she said quietly, "Shoot,"

"What is the name of Tim's first true love?"

Complete silence fell.

_What the hell?_ Abby and Tim hadn't ever discussed their first dates. Sure, when they had been a couple they had talked about previous boyfriends and girlfriends, but the subject of their very _first_ significant other had never poked its way into their conversation.

She scanned her memories. There was Erin, the psycho kleptomaniac, the Redskins cheerleader, that girl he met at a funeral. None of the names that came to her held any significance to her current problem. _Why hadn't she asked him before?!_

"We're waiting," P.K. reminded her. "Or, if you'd rather, I could just cut his throat now, and save us time,"

"No, no!"

P.K. simply smiled hysterically at her as he walked over to Tim, pulling out his knife. He was about to taunt Abby some more when his door crashed open. With cat-like reflexes, he lifted Tim's body and flung himself behind it, bringing his knife to Tim's throat as Gibbs yelled, "Freeze, Federal Agents!".

Ziva and Tony were behind him, guns pulled, but without a target, they looked to Gibbs for direction. He shook his head before lowering his gun. With a soft voice, he said, "What do you want?"

P.K.'s eyes gleamed murderously. He pressed the blade closer to skin as he spoke through clenched teeth.

"I want Miss Scuito to answer the question. That's all we have left to do, Agent Gibbs, then our little game is over," He directed his next comment to Abby, his eyes never leaving the Agents' guns.

"Answer _now_,"

"The name of Tim's . . . first love is . . . uh . . ."

Abby lowered her head into her hands. The pressure was suffocating her, and crazy thoughts were flying through her head as she groped around for the correct answer. When she finally looked up, something impossible happened.

Before Gibbs could shoot, before P.K. could cut, before Tony could crack a joke or Ziva could make a threat, Tim bent his knees, pressed them on the wall, and propelled himself forward; the force causing him to spin a hundred and eighty degrees. He caught eyes with P.K. as he kicked the knife out of his hands and his body pressed the murderer against the wall. Though he spoke through gritted teeth, he said the words very clearly.

"The answer to your question . . . she's sitting on the other side of that video chat. And I swear to God, I'm going to make you pay for making her watch _all_ _this_."

And with that, he propelled himself off the wall once more, and swiftly kicked P.K. in the head as the ropes holding him up snapped.

* * *

Abby was too busy crying with relief to notice when Gibbs finally shot P.K. She was still seeing through a blurry set of eyes as Ziva and Tony got paramedics for Tim. And even as Tim was carried into an ambulance, she was still too busy being beside herself with relief to notice Gibbs coming into frame.

"Abbs?" he said softly.

She looked up through teary eyelashes. He sighed, then smiled broadly.

"It's over, Abbs. Come on over to Bethesda."

She finally smiled, prying herself from Tim's desk, and flew to the parking lot, hell-bent on seeing her Tim.

When she finally arrived in the waiting room, after bombarding through two nurses, four astonished patients, and one surgical assistant, Gibbs pulled her into his familiar protecting embrace. She sobbed as she held onto the man who acted as her father, and she heard Tony and Ziva murmuring comforting things in her ears. When she finally broke the hug, she smiled at the three. The doctor came out, and Abby held her breath as she spoke.

"Agent McGee is one lucky man. The skin around his wrists has nearly been rubbed off, he has a deep cut in his abdomen, and numerous cuts on his face, but none of it will cause permanent damage. He's currently suffering from some malnutrition, but I've got a nurse giving him appropriate nourishment as we speak,"

As usual, Ziva recovered from the mouthful of information first.

"So, will he be alright?"

"He's going to have some scars, but in the long run, he'll be just fine. In fact, we can allow him to have a visitor; one at a time, though, and you'll need to leave when he grows too exhausted,"

They all motioned for Abby to go first, but she was already halfway into Tim's room to even notice the three. They all chuckled softly as the door shut, and patiently waited for their turn to tell Tim how proud they were of him.

Abby took Tim's hand as she sat down in a chair by his bed. She ignored the IV in his arm as easily as she ignored all the cuts across his face. All she saw was her Timmy, finally safe. At last, he opened his eyes, smiling as he recognized her.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Don't sound so excited," she chuckled. He just smiled, used to her playful teasing. She leaned forward and hugged him gingerly, still frightened he might be too fragile for her usual enthusiasm. He returned it with his delicate strength.

"You had me scared, Tim," she admitted softly.

"Abbs, you can't seriously believe that I would give in so easily," he said with a hint of a smile. "I'm _much_ too stubborn to die,"

She chuckled softly.

"I'm not talking about _that_! Although that did have me nervous; next time just left Gibbs kill the sicko without putting yourself in danger!"

His eyebrows furred in confusion, so she elaborated.

"What I mean is, I was worried about the answer to that last question, I was so worried that I'd get it wrong, and I just didn't know . . ."

He put his finger to her lips, and smiled.

"I'm surprised you even had to ask, Abbs,"

She smiled, and then kissed him softly. She pulled back suddenly, a thought pushing its way into her head.

"How the hell did you know that sign?" she asked, referring to the "I Love You" sign in ASL. He laughed softly.

"I've been practicing since we broke up, Abbs."

She smiled and kissed him once more. This time, he was the one to break it.

"The _other_ reason," he said with a sly smile. "It gets really annoying to not understand what you and Gibbs are saying!"

* * *

**AN: So that's it! I hoped you liked it, and thanks a ZILLION to all of you who favorite-ed and alert-ed me! (that's not very good grammer, but you catch my drift!)  
I'm currently working on like five other stories, so don't give up on me just yet!  
God Bless, you guys!  
**_-KatieIsCatastrophe_


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